


Soothing Kisses

by EspressoandJustice



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Everything Sihtric Deserves, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Morning After, Post-Battle, Romantic Fluff, Scars, Soft and Sleepy Sihtric, Touching, absolute sweetness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25094536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EspressoandJustice/pseuds/EspressoandJustice
Summary: The morning after Sihtric returns from battle, you spend some time giving your bruised and battered lover the attention and touches that he deserves on a cold winter morning.
Relationships: Sihtric (The Last Kingdom)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Soothing Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this is absolute SUPER fluff with some implied sexual content and heavy touching. Because who wouldn't with Sihtric, right?

A shiver runs through you and you bury yourself further beneath the plush fur blankets with a smile. It’s the contrast of the warmth of the bed and the cold winter air that seeps into the room that has goosebumps ghosting across your skin…and it’s a shiver of pleasure as you recall why there’s a delicious ache between your legs. The very reason why is sleeping deeply beside you. 

  
He had come to you last night after an overwhelming victory on the battlefield that had been a close call to begin with. His pupils had been blown with both lust and fierceness, his body trembling with adrenaline as he used every last ounce of strength to worship your body on every surface in your bedroom. 

  
Now, as the sun bathes your room in an orange glow and your body hums still from your lover, you are more than content to gaze at Sihtric as he sleeps, peaceful and safe, alongside you. He looks so different when he’s sleeping, his sharp features softer as his mind is finally at peace. The gods knew he was practically months overdue for a decent night’s rest, out of the cold and off the hard ground. 

  
His body is a canvas detailing the life of a warrior, especially mere hours after an exhausting battle. Bruises in all stages of color contrast harshly against the bare skin on his chest and abdomen, and you know they travel even lower than where the blankets lie at his hip. His arms, muscular and strong, are littered with scars and fresh scrapes. Your gaze travels to his handsome face, where his lips are parted softly as he rests. His bottom lip sports a cut and you wrack your mind briefly to remember if that was already there or you were the cause of that during your passionate lovemaking. Lastly, stark against his angled cheekbone, is a bruise that was most definitely from a large fist or the butt of a sword. 

  
“What are you thinking about?” Sihtric asks with his eyes closed, voice husky with sleep. You jump slightly as you had been so deep in thought you did not realize he was awake. He opens his eyes and gives you a sleepy, teasing smile. You scoot even closer to him on your side and bring your fingers up to card through his dark wavy hair. “Just admiring the view.” You admit sheepishly. The smile on his perfect lips spreads wider and he hums in content as you stroke his hair. 

  
“I could lie with you like this all day.” He says quietly. Gently, your fingers smooth over the mark on his cheek and a little bit of anger flares in you at the painful sight of it. A warrior’s hazard, yes, but it still wasn’t easy having Sihtric return a little more battered each time.

  
“How are you?” you ask, thumb grazing his full bottom lip. “I am alright, a little sore.” he admits. He catches your hand and still its ministrations on his handsome face so he can press a kiss to your fingers. 

  
His gaze is bright with rest, his dual colored eyes taking in the sight of you with complete adoration. You smile at him, feeling like you surely look love drunk at this moment and then you press your lips to his. Sihtric’s kisses are passionate, never leaving you wanting. His mouth, while gentle, takes you in as if your kisses were his oxygen. You pull away breathless and lightheaded from just how intoxicating this man is.

  
“I think,” you say, shifting to straddle him gently, “that a warrior like you should have time to recover”. The thinnest of clothing is separating you and Sihtric and you already feel your entire body warm despite the cool air of the room. Sihtric slides his calloused hands up your ribs and he looks at you as if you were the entire world. “And I would agree.” he concludes.

  
While you’d love nothing more than to start this morning off making Sihtric a sweat-soaked, moaning mess (as you have many a time), you have something else in mind at this moment. 

  
You take one of his large hands between yours and bring it to your lips. A fighter’s hands, nothing less, his knuckles are littered with nicks and scrapes and the palms are calloused and rough. You kiss each finger, starting with the tattooed and ringed ones. These very fingers are capable of defending a fortress and also bringing you to the edge over and over again. 

  
Finished with his hands you sweep your hair over one shoulder and bend to trail kisses down his neck, following his tattoo down to the strong curve of his shoulder. Sihtric inhales sharply and arches into your mouth with no shame. His neck had always been his sweet spot. You hum softly and work your way down his shoulder, your lips pressing ever so softly across bruised and tender skin. By the time you are finished with both of his muscular arms, Sihtric is watching you with eyes heavy with bliss and his breathing mixed with moans.

  
You shift slightly in his lap, cheeks flushing at the brief friction it causes. Focus, focus. His chest is your next project and you make it a point to find each scar first. Some are so faded, surely from his time at Dunholm before he joined Uhtred. Your lips find them and linger a little longer, as if your touch could take away any memory of suffering. You move to the blue and purple bruises blossoming across his toned chest and abdomen and punctuate each of your words with the gentlest of kisses, “You deserve to have” your hot breath creates goosebumps, “every inch of you kissed.” you whisper against his skin. 

  
Sihtric’s hand moves to your hair as your mouth finds his hips. His breath hitches in his throat and he lets out the most delicious sounding whimper as your touch continues lower on sensitive skin. Pleased that you’ve soothed your lover thoroughly with your mouth, you move up his warm body and resume your position in his lap - feeling a little breathless yourself. Sihtric holds onto your hips to keep you still as he pulls himself to sit facing you. 

  
Your hand comes up to cup his strong jaw and Sihtric’s mouth meets yours with unbridled passion. “You are a goddess and I do not deserve you.” he says against your lips. His tone is soft, but his voice is husky and deep with desire and it sends shivers up your spine.   
You wrap your arms around his strong shoulders and pull him into an embrace. Sihtric tucks his face into your neck and breathes you in, and you swear the world stops around you as you’re like this. Lovingly, your fingertips trail up and down his back and smooth circles across the soft skin. “Goddess maybe,” you say with a playful tone, “but you deserve a morning like this every day.” you assure him. 

  
Sihtric’s breath is hot against your collarbone and it’s dizzying, how much you love this man. Swear to the gods, you could stay in his embrace forever. His body is warm and heavy against you and it soothes you as much as it soothes him to be entwined in your arms.

  
The two of you eventually pull away, but you decide that today should be spent within the warm confines of your fur blankets with your lover beside you, and the two of you slip into covers once more. You throw your arm out to the side and Sihtric follows without missing a beat, draping himself across you and bringing his head to your chest. Your fingers slip into his dark hair and find a rhythm there, carding through the dark waves soothingly. Sihtric hums in pleasure and sighs, on the brink of sleep yet again. You press your lips to the top of his head and pull him even closer.

  
“Sleep, my love.” you murmur. A battle had been won and Wessex could remain safe for the rest of the day. The sun hangs like an ornament in the sky, bright but providing little warmth in the frigid winter air, and today was meant for letting a tired warrior sleep in your arms. 


End file.
